


Don't Look Down

by Willful_Fury



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/F, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-21
Updated: 2014-07-21
Packaged: 2018-02-09 15:52:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1988820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Willful_Fury/pseuds/Willful_Fury
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Leyna Mahariel feels herself slipping slowly into despair. When she finally falls, will someone catch her?</p>
<p>There will be some F!Mahariel/Leliana, but there is Tamlen/F!Mahariel if you want to squint.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Look Down

**Author's Note:**

> This was just something I had knocking around in my head after playing this scene in Origins. I just wanted to go deeper into it. Comments would be greatly appreciated. Special thanks to my beta BexiBirdSong.

Leyna snarled into the squealing face of the dying shriek as she ripped her blade from its belly. Its body dropped heavily at her feet. She stared down at the twisted form, its beady eyes still seeming to watch her.

Not even camp was safe anymore. Everywhere they went these Creators forsaken monstrosities weren't far behind, mercilessly hounding even her dreams. She had come to terms with that, but at least camp had always been safe. Until now. She clenched her jaw against the encroaching hopelessness threatening to overcome her, sheathing her daggers in the respective scabbards at her waist.

Her ears twitched at the sound of a multitude of weapons being put away behind her, but she couldn't bring herself to move. Something still didn’t feel right. Her senses told her there was still a faint flickering of taint lurking near them. Not more darkspawn. Their presence always felt like a stifling blackness, thick and weighty. It wasn't Alistair either. The taint in him always registered as a soft gray light in her mind.

No. Whatever this was its presence in her mind was too chaotic, sporadically jumping from one extreme to the next. Never staying on either for too long before it swung the other direction.

A matronly voice pierced through her flurry of thought. “Leyna dear, are you okay? You haven't moved an inch since the battle finished.”

“That's because it isn't.” Leyna turned slowly, head cocked to the side trying to locate the source of the taint. Ignoring the concerned look on Wynnes face, she turned to Alistair. “Can you feel it?”

He nodded, turning to scan the tree line behind him. “It's barely there. Almost like it's struggling to exist. Like a fish thrown out of water.”

She hummed in agreement, straining her ears to search the surrounding area.

“Leyna! Behind you!” Alistair shouted, drawing his sword.

She whipped around, daggers sliding out of their scabbards. She charged for the hunched ghoul, standing just outside of the tree line. The creature didn't react to her advance like its brethren had. Instead it stood still, head bowed low, arms curled into its chest, and twitching violently. Its leather armor dingy and cracked from neglect, several buckles were torn, and its left bracer was missing all together. Taint blackened skin spotted its body, sandy blonde hair growing in sparse patches across its skull.

Steel armor clanking harshly alerted her to Alistair’s continued advance. She reached an arm out to stop him, and he managed to slow down enough to not take her arm off with the force.

“What?” His confusion evident as he looked down at the small arm pressed against his chest.

“Wait.”

“Wait? Are you mad?” His voice rose a few octaves higher.

“Just...wait. Give me a second.” She wasn't sure why she was stopping him. There was no good reason, something deep in her gut just told her to wait.

He must have sensed it as he said, “Alright, but if it so much as touches you. I'm having Leliana put an arrow through its eye.”

She nodded her ascent, turning her attention back to the ghoul, approaching it slowly. Sheathing is sword, and huffing audibly, Alistair turned back to join the rest of the group, all watching cautiously.

As she got closer, the ghoul cocked its head, reacting to her presence. She could see its face more clearly now, pointed ears and thin features told her it was a fellow elf. Half of its face overtaken by the taint, cloudy gray eyes staring into the void. In the places where the skin was clear she could just barely make out a fading vallaslin. A delicate curve swooping from the corner of its mouth to the edge of its jaw. With more lines curling gracefully across its forehead.

“By the dread wolf...it can't be.” She breathed out weakly. Her daggers slipped from her grasp, clattering loudly in the silence as she continued forward, closing the distance between them quickly.

She stopped a few feet in front of him, still wary of his condition. It may look like Tamlen, but there was no way to tell if it was really him anymore.

“Letha...Lethallan.” His voice was harsh from disuse, and he spoke with more force than was necessary.

“Tamlen? Is it really you?” She asked in quiet disbelief. He looked so sick, and sounded so angry, nothing at all like the Tamlen she knew. How long had it been since she had last seen him? It felt like years, but it couldn't have been that long, a few months at the most. She was so detached from the young hunteress she used to be, battle being the only real constant anymore. Time became irrelevant, only the looming Blight was of any significance since she was forced to leave her clan.

“Searched...Searched for you, had-...had to find you, see you.” His sunken eyes darted to the pile of shriek corpses littered around our camp. “They listened...followed...not alone in here anymore. ” A gaunt fingered reached up to tap roughly against a blotchy temple. “Ir...abelas, lethallan.” His face contorted as his diseased mouth uttered the words of our native tongue as if he felt unworthy of speaking it.

“There is no need for sorrow, lethallin.” The tension in his shoulders seemed to relax at my words, arms dropping limply at his sides.

“Missed you...family...clan.” Paper thin eyelids slid over his blank eyes, and for a moment, one small second, he looked at peace.

“Maybe I can heal you...” Leyna attempted to reach out to touch his arm, but he recoiled furiously. He brought his decaying arms up to beat at his head, hands tearing at the remaining blonde hair, chunks pulling away easily.

“No! No heal!...too late...the whispers...singing...always the singing.” She could sense the taint in him flaring erratically in her mind, a smothering darkness blanketing her senses, and as suddenly as it came it subsided.

With the temporary moment of clarity, gray eyes settled on the small dagger she kept strapped to her chest. “Silence...stop the singing...stop the singing, lethallan. Please.”

Her heart dropped to the ground at his request. It was the kind thing to do, but the thought made her sick. They'd been friends since they were children, he was in every sense her brother, and now he was asking to die. At her continued silence, he pleaded. “Please, lethallan. The singing forbids me to...do it myself. Please...”

Her eyes burned with unshed tears, throat constricting painfully with quelled sobs, but she nodded quietly. “Of course.” The sound of the small blade being drawn made her stomach lurch. Leyna approached him, stopping close enough that she could smell the taint rolling off of his body.

He flinched at the gentle pressure of her hand against the back of his neck, drawing their foreheads together. “Do you remember the time we snuck into Master Ilen's ara'vel as kids looking for weapons, but all we found were sparring sticks? Merrill was keeping watch when we decided to become the protectors of Elvhen everywhere from the dirty shemlen, and she got stuck being the shemlen? We chased her all around camp until Marethari finally came to her rescue.”

A laugh gurgled thickly up his throat, the taint surrounding him slipped away, and she could swear that he was the old Tamlen again, even if just for a minute. His eyes brightened, and he was happy.

With practiced ease, she slipped the knife right through his ribs, piercing his heart; a move she had become much too familiar with since she became a Grey Warden. His body went rigid for a few seconds before falling slack against her, breathing a last contented sigh against her shoulder.

A strangled gasp escaped her clenched jaws, feeling her composure starting to shrivel away into nothing. She lowered him reverently to the ground, removing the blade, and gently closed his eyes. Afraid to move on shaky legs, she stayed kneeling next to him. She thought she had already grieved for Tamlen. Everyone said he was dead though his body was never found, even after searching a second time with Merrill.

She had made what peace she could with losing her best friend, then he shows up here, looking like the Blight personified, and she has to do it all over again. On top of everything else, she wasn't sure she had the mental capacity to start over.

“What was that?” The shock in Alistair's voice drew her out of her thoughts. Composing her expression as much as she could, she rose on shaky legs to face him. Something thick and wet smeared across her armor as she tried dusting the dirt off of herself. She looked down to her hand, stomach twisting at the viscous black liquid drying in thick clumps across her skin.

She pressed the back of her clean hand shakily against her mouth. Staring wide eyed at the offending limb, she stumbled backwards before righting herself and bolting off into the woods.

Cries of her name could barely be heard over the pounding in her ears and the air whistling past her. She sprinted mechanically through the forest, barely missing some of the larger obstacles, stopping finally at the river they had passed earlier that day.

She dropped heavily at its banks, scrubbing her hand raw in the cool water. Once she was sure there was no trace of Tamlens diseased blood, she pulled her knees into her chest.

She remembered the feeling of her dagger sinking into Tamlens chest with unnatural ease. His twisted body sagged against her, black blood oozing across her hand. His last breath a sigh of relief as his soul left his tainted body, taking with it whatever innocence she might have had left.

The forest was quiet, comforting, a cool breeze floated on the air, and the stars winked playfully at her through the breaks in the forest ceiling. She felt like she was teetering on the precipice of madness, one slip and she'd be lost. Her dreams were increasing in ferocity of late. Instead of being just flashes of death and darkspawn, they had begun building and shaping themselves to bleed into reality. Almost to the point where she no longer knew which world she was truly in.

Leyna needed the peace the forest always seemed to bring, or she was certain that she'd lose her footing and fall off that edge. So she closed her eyes, letting the sounds of the forest calm her frayed nerves. The tips of her ears twitched at the sound of all the animals scurrying to ground for the night, and the birds singing their goodnight songs to the sky. The air felt cooler out in the forest, crisper somehow. Burdens didn't seem quite as heavy, and death didn't feel so close.

The think crunch of a stick sounded behind her, echoing in the silence. Her ears twitched as they scanned the space behind her, but no other noises could be heard other than her own breathing. Leyna sat stone still, fingers twitching towards the dagger at her chest. Another loud crunch echoed in the silence, and the warrior in her sprang to life.

She gripped the dagger, swirling around to bring it across her attacker's throat, but a slender hand stopped her mid strike. She stared dumbstruck at the pale fingers wrapped around her bracer, letting her eyes travel up the toned arm until they rested on Leliana's face. Her red hair flickering like flames in the breeze under the moonlight, complimenting her rich blue eyes. A small concerned smile pulled at Leliana's smooth features as she gently took the dagger, and placed it back in its holder.

"Getting a little sloppy, aren't we?" Leyna said, crossing her arms protectively, looking off to the side. She always felt exposed when Leliana was looking at her and as raw as she was right now there would be no hiding. "I bet even the archdemon heard all the noise you made."

She let out a laugh that was both beautiful and deadly. "My dear warden, if I had wanted to remain undetected I would have easily done so. I felt it was best if I announce my presence" She made a face. “After what happened.”

Not entirely sure she was ready to talk about it, Leyna just shrugged. “I'm fine.”

Leliana tilted her head and squinted her eyes. "I do not believe you Leyna, not one bit." She paused to reach her hand up to Leyna's face, running a thumb across the pink scar that descended from her graceful eyebrow down the line of her cheekbone. Leyna's eyes fluttered closed as she leaned into the gentle caress. “Was that the boy you spoke of? From your clan?”

“Yes.” Leyna said so quietly she wasn't sure the bard heard her.

They had grown closer over the last few months since Lothering. She found Leliana to be refreshingly unprejudiced towards the Elvhen, even if she sometimes put her foot in her mouth. The talks they would have during their night watches together gave Leyna a much needed respite from the pressures being dumped on her to lead. Their relationship was swiftly moving towards something Leyna didn't understand, but wasn't completely unwilling to explore.

She stiffened as Leliana stepped closer, leaving no room between them. Warm breath ghosted across her forehead, traveling down to tickle the tips of her ears. Leliana's hand still rested against her cheek, caressing it gently. Before she could talk herself out of it, Leyna relaxed against the bard's chest, and she felt safe for the first time since leaving her clan.

"Just talk to me, Leyna." Leliana's head dipped to the side, putting her mouth level with a pointed ear. "The darkness will swallow you, if you let it." Even whispering, Leyna was mesmerized by the bard's voice, graceful and soft, dancing across the sensitive surface of her ear.

"I fear it already has, and you deserve so much better than to be dragged down with me." She turned her head slightly running her nose along the bard's hairline, drinking in the scent that she knew as uniquely Leliana. Each lungful calming the maelstrom of chaos in her mind.

"I would not have asked if I was not willing to brave it with you, dear warden." Leliana said, pulling back just enough to be able to look into the elf's eyes. Leyna stayed silent for a few moments, simply studying the human before her. She was trying desperately to hold on to the fragile cord of composure that frayed a little more with every soothing word.

“Tamlen deserved better than that, so much better. I miss him, but a large part of me wants to be furious at him. I wouldn't be in this situation if it wasn't for him touching that blighted mirror. We never should have stepped foot into that cave. If we hadn't, I would never have been forced to become a Grey Warden, and I wouldn't have had to shove a dagger into the heart of one of the greatest men I've even known. But I can't be mad at him because he's dead, and I killed him.” Leyna's head dropped to her chest, hiding the brimming tears from the bard.

“The past, think of it like a rug that cannot be rewoven, yes? No matter how much we hope and pray, we can't go back and change the threads.” She paused, lifting Leyna's gaze to hers once again. “Until you can walk across that rug without looking down, you'll miss out on everything in front of you.”

"I don't know how much longer I can hold together. I feel disjointed; every piece of me warring with the next. I'm standing on the precipice of this Mythal forsaken journey, and I can feel death whispering at my neck. ” Leyna disconnected from the bards comforting embrace, feeling a desperate urge to do something, anything to relieve the cancerous growth of destitution in her mind.

She paced, smoothing the non existent wrinkles in her armor. “I've buried myself so far beneath the hatred, and the bloodshed that I can scarcely remember who I am underneath this armor. If this is what the rest of my life is going to be like, why not live in the past, what is there to look forward to?” She stilled as she spoke, her fingers working almost reverently over a gouge in her leather breastplate, eyes seeing everything and nothing at once.

The taller woman walked forward a few steps, but Leyna refused to look up at her. “You know, sometimes I forget just how young you really are. On the outside, you are every inch the leader we need. But on those rare occasions, like tonight, and all the other nights when it was just us on watch, Leyna the Hunteress slips through and reminds me.” She closed the small gap between them once again, raising a hand to tilt Leyna's chin up, pushing a lock of black hair behind her ear with the other. Her blue eyes were soft and inviting, and she was so close that Leyna could feel her breath wafting over her lips, see the small freckles that dusted her cheeks.

Then she smiled that dazzling smile that made Leyna's heart race and her knees weak as she whispered. “Saying there is nothing to look forward to is like giving up on a book after only reading its intro; a tragic injustice, no?”

Before she could reply, soft lips pressed themselves against hers. The contact was foreign at first, and for a few seconds she stood still, unsure of what to do. She didn't experiment like the other young elves in her clan. She was a hunter, one of the best, and she never found time for such things. Electricity seemed to course through her at the contact, and she wasn't sure if she liked it yet, but definitely wanted more of it.

It wasn't until Leliana's lips parted from her own, and she saw the look of rejection on the bard's face that she realized she hadn't kissed back.

“I'm sorry. I must have misread.” Leliana's voice held none of its signature confidence and charm, her shoulders slumping forward dejectedly.

As the bard tried to pull away, Leyna held fast to the buckles of her armor, keeping her in place. It took a few seconds for her to decide what she wanted to do, just enough to make Leliana squirm awkwardly. She yanked the taller woman down, crashing their lips together with a little more force than necessary. Drawing an adorable squeak from the bard. In her haste, Leyna hit off center, but was quickly righted by her more experienced partner.

Bowstring calloused fingertips brushed her cheeks, steering the kiss down a more leisurely, exploratory path. Leyna threaded her small hands into red tresses, gripping gently, and eliciting a groan from the larger woman. Leliana's fingertips trailed along her jaw line to caress the shells of her ears, working up to their sensitive points. Unprepared for the lancing pleasure that raced down her spine, she jerked away, eyes wide.

Everything faded away around her, and all she could hear was the thundering of her own heart. Leliana's eyes had darkened to a rich indigo, and she saw in them a dark desire that matched her own, causing an unknown heat to swirl low in her belly. Leyna leaned up, covering her bard's lips again, moving with a focused intensity. Not really thinking, only listening to her body's demands, she captured Leliana's bottom lip between her teeth, tugging lightly. In response, Leliana made a sound in the back of her throat before pressing urgently into Leyna, driving her against a nearby tree.

In the back of her mind she knew that this was the wrong thing to do, so close after Tamlen's death, but she couldn't be bothered to care. She needed to feel something, anything to assuage the dark thoughts plaguing her mind. All thought left her as a warm tongue sought entrance to her mouth and Leyna accepted, tilting her head, deepening the kiss. Her head swam as Leliana hands roamed across any exposed skin she could find, leaving scorching trails in their wake. Letting out a frustrated growl, Leliana started working clumsily at the buckles to her armor. Panic was starting to bubble up inside her. She didn't know what to do, or what was expected of her, and if she'd be any good. An insistent knee pressing roughly between her thighs, silenced any doubts floating in her mind. Creators, what was this woman doing to her?

It was all too much, and not enough simultaneously. The woman pressed against her was exquisite, the heat and smell of her, near overwhelming. A low moan tore up her throat as lips drifted over to kiss the lobe of her ear, teeth nipping at the sensitive shell. “I don't know- ah!...what comes next.”

A throaty chuckle vibrated against her neck, making her hips cant involuntarily against the knee pressed between them. “Whatever you want to come next, my warden.” Her orlesian accent thick and husky as she spoke, kissing the swoop of Leyna's neck in between words.

“No, I mean, I really don't-...by the creators!” Leliana had reached a hand down to grip one of her legs, lifting it to wrap around the taller woman's waist, putting more direct pressure on her. She was swiftly losing the capacity for coherent thought, much less words, so she blurted out, “I've never done this before.”

The bard's movements stilled abruptly, raising her head up from its place at Leyna's neck. The haze in her dark eyes seemed to clear as everything clicked in her head. Untangling herself from Leyna, she put as much distance between them as politely possible. Leyna ached at the loss of contact, but was thankful for the clarity slowly returning in her mind.

“Oh Maker, Leyna. I am so sorry. I got caught up, and wasn't thinking. This not the kind of comfort you needed. I was blinded by my own selfish desires.” Leliana ran a hand through her tousled auburn hair, shaking her head in self frustration.

“What? Why are you sorry? It made me forget, for a moment, how screwed up my life has become. And I was enjoying myself, weren't you?” Leyna asked in confusion.

“Maker yes. It's just that one's first time should not be a hurried encounter, pressed against a tree. It should be special, in a bed, and I almost took that from you. Using your weakened state to my advantage. For that, I am sorry.” Remorse marring her perfect face.

“Hey, if it was unwelcome I wouldn't have let you do it. Besides, did you ever think maybe elves prefer it outside?” Leyna smiled, trying to alleviate the agitation knitted across her bard's forehead.

“No they don't. I've been with elves before and they like a bed indoors just like everyone else.”

She suppressed the twinge of jealousy rising in her chest at the mention of Leliana's past lovers, and replied. “Ah, but have any of them ever been Dalish?”

“That's not exactly an open circle of bed partners, Leyna.” An auburn eyebrow arched with incredulity.

“See, then you don't know how the Dalish like it. We are a very 'commune with nature' type of people. Against a tree would suit us just fine. My only problem was I didn't know what to do.”

“Against a tree or no, it still should be a special experience.” Her expression had brightened a little, a smile starting to tug at her features.

Leyna moved away from the tree, pressing herself back against the bard's chest, rising on her toes to capture the redheads lips again. She poured everything she was feeling into that kiss, good and bad; she laid it all at Leliana's feet.

When they finally parted, Leyna smiled against the bard's lips. “Whether it's in a bed, tent, or against a tree. As long as it's with you, how could it not be special?”

“If there was a dragon present,” Leliana deadpanned. “Or Morrigan. Any variation of the two really.”

“Hey! I was trying to be charming.” Leyna thumped a fist playfully against the bard's chest. Leliana chuckled, leaning down to place a short kiss on Leyna's lips.

“Ahem!” A loud throat clearing startled them apart. They both looked up to see Morrigan leaning against a tree. “Believe me when I say I would rather be locked up in the Circle tower than be present while you two paw at each other like animals.”

“Is there something you needed, Morrigan?” Leyna said sternly, hardening her expression, and straightening her posture.

“Certainly not from you two. I have simply come to relay a message from our village idiot.” She picked at her fingers in disinterest.

“Morrigan.” Leyna's voice dropped menacingly, causing the hair to rise across Leliana's arms, and even made the mage twitch involuntarily in fear.

“We have built a pyre, and if you would kindly return to camp. We can give your friend a funeral.”

“Thank you. Now if you would kindly leave us, it would be greatly appreciated.”

“With pleasure.” The witch started away from them, exploding in a burst of magic, flying away in the form of a raven.

Leyna grumbled threats under her breath at the witch. If she didn't enjoy the insulting banter between Morrigan and Alistair so much, she'd send the witch back to her swamp. A hand settled itself in the small of her back, silencing her grumbles.

“We should get back.” Leliana said.

“I know.” She started walking back in the direction of camp, taking comfort in the strong presence by her side. She didn't want to go back. Out in the forest, she was able to forget everything but Leliana, and the breeze through the trees, at least for a little while. But she owed Tamlen a funeral, that and so much more.

His mistake brought her Alistair, and Leliana. It gave her a chance to end the blight that's torn her life apart.

She was ready to walk forward without looking down.


End file.
